The Healing Power of Massage
by readbetweenthesigns
Summary: A smutty little one shot set after On My Way. Maybe Quinn had help with her therapy from one of her special friends... M for content, complete.


**Disclaimer: Ownership is neither claimed nor implied.**

**A/N: A completely smut driven tale…**

"Come on Quinn," Clive, her physical therapist encouraged, "three more sets then I'll let you rest, two more, one more," he counted down, "well done, and rest."

Quinn panted, perspiration beaded on her forehead, she felt a shiver of something tremble through her weakened leg muscles. "You know Clive, I think the therapy is really helping," she told him with a satisfied smile. "I can feel my legs tingling, especially at night," she confided, hoping that it wasn't just her imagination.

"That's good, Quinn, really good," Clive said with a smile, he patted her knee. "Come on then, time for your massage," he added, standing up to assist Quinn back into her wheelchair.

Clive pushed Quinn through to the massage room, he helped her onto the table then spent a few moments lighting the incense sticks, warming the oil, turning on the Indian style mood music and making sure the room was suitably dim.

"I'll give you a few minutes to get ready," Clive said as usual, leaving the room for Quinn to strip off her work out gear.

As she usually did, Quinn stripped down to her underwear then covered herself with a towel and, as usual, because she felt quite embarrassed if she didn't, put an eye mask on. It was something that made even Quinn wonder and roll her eyes, she had no idea why it made a difference but it did. If she didn't wear the eye mask she felt far too embarrassed and inhibited for Clive to touch her wasted limbs the way he needed to do to give the best effect possible.

Quinn laid down with the towel covering her body from just above her breasts to the top of her thighs. At the sound of a light knock at the door she called out softly. "I'm ready, you can come in."

Quinn heard the door open then close, she heard the soft pad of sneaker shod feet cross the floor to the edge of the massage table. Quinn heard the tiny little squeak that the pump made when depressed to release measured doses of the warmed oil, normal sounds that she heard every time she had her therapy. Quinn heard Clive's breath, even, deep, normal, she heard her own, even, deep, normal. Quinn concentrated on the beautiful, relaxing music, heard the distinctive sound of the sitar, listened to the tinkling crash of minute cymbals.

The very first touch of Clive's hands to her right foot made Quinn suck in her breath. She felt his warm, gentle hands stroke over the top of her foot then slide back towards her toes along the instep. She felt Clive lift her foot and concentrate on it, using both hands to massage it. She felt her foot being rested against a strong shoulder, in her mind's eye she could see exactly what he was doing, it made her wonder a little, he didn't usually start off like this. Quinn felt his strong hands slide up above her ankle, just the faintest hint of a touch, not able to feel it fully, like her legs were just not quite numb, like she'd been sat on them cutting off the blood supply to her muscles but still able to feel something. Quinn felt a shiver shoot through her as the warm hands reached her calf and stroked and squeezed the muscle there. Quinn wondered if she could feel more today than she had before, she didn't usually feel Clive's hands quite so intensely, she didn't usually have trouble keeping her breathing steady, this felt almost sensual, erotic. "Crap," Quinn thought to herself as Clive's hands slowly climbed higher. "Fuck," she thought as she felt a sudden gush of moisture in her panties. "Jeez, if only this was Puck, he'd know exactly how to help me," she told herself, her breath shuddering from her lungs as she tried to keep her reaction to Clive's hands to herself.

Puck watched Quinn's nipples rise and become visible through her bra, glad that her towel had slipped a little. He stepped further up the side of the massage table, closer to her centre, her calf resting on his shoulder, he fought the urge to kiss her ankle, stroke his tongue along her smooth skin. He concentrated on massaging his way up her thigh, saw the slight twitch of her thigh as she tried to squirm a little, tried to give herself some relief from the arousal she was obviously feeling. At the very top of her thigh, Puck allowed the tips of his fingers to graze her panties, felt the moisture there, saw the little clench of her buttocks, knew she was almost ready to scream. He watched as Quinn's tongue stroked along her lower lip followed by her teeth biting into it as she tried hard to keep a moan from escaping, watched her fingers curl into the sheet covering the table as if to stop herself from grasping at him.

Puck lowered her right leg then moved to the other side of the table and proceeded to give Quinn's left leg the same treatment that the right had received. As he reached mid thigh, Quinn could barely stand it, she couldn't quite hold back the little moan that managed to find it's way out. Puck's fingertips again very gently grazed her panties, he felt how damp they were, he was struggling himself to not grasp Quinn's hand and press it to his aching boner. As he gently laid her leg back down on the table, Puck leaned over her a little and grasped the lace edge of her panties, Quinn gasped as he drew them down her legs, she held her breath for endless seconds, Puck watched her, saw the flush of arousal colour her chest and her cheeks. He kept his eyes on her face as his fingers gently touched between her thighs, stroked her, felt her thighs fall apart enough to allow him access.

Quinn sucked in a breath when she felt her panties being dragged off of her, her heartbeat almost doubled, she didn't know whether to shout out or scream, she didn't dare lift the eye mask, she didn't think she'd be able to look at him. Quinn sighed, moaned as she felt the first touch of those familiar fingers to her hidden seam, the damp, slick slit that begged for his touch, begged for those very fingers to ease the ache, she allowed her thighs to fall open, to give him room to work.

Puck bent closer, his lips touched her quivering belly right below her belly button then let his tongue trail down, down, over smooth, shaved skin, his thumbs parted her a little, his tongue found her tight, sensitive bundle of nerves and flicked it. "Puck," Quinn screamed, her back bowing off the table, her breath catching in her throat. "Oh, God, do that again," she begged, her fingers spearing through his hair, holding his head tight to the juncture of her thighs.

Puck pushed against Quinn's hand, lifting his head a little. "You knew it was me?" he asked as his fingers entered her, stroked inside her.

"Of course I knew it was you," Quinn replied, "even though I can't feel things fully, the second you touched my foot I knew it wasn't Clive," she murmured, "and there's never been anyone else who could make me feel how you make me feel," she admitted and lifted her other hand to take the mask off.

"Leave it on," Puck said quickly, his voice low, husky, he moved away from her hip and walked to the end of the table. "Leave it on and just feel."

Quinn's hand fell back to the table, she squeaked as Puck gripped under each thigh and pulled her down the table till her butt rested on the end of it. Puck groaned in appreciation as he lifted Quinn's legs over his shoulders and bent towards her, his tongue quivered, he almost salivated in anticipation. With one arm curving over her hip, Puck's fingers held her open for his tongue, with the other, he thrust first one then two fingers into her, stroking her inside as his tongue teased and stroked her clit.

"Oh God," Quinn cried as her head spun, sensation rippling through her entire body. "Oh…oh…oh…oh," she moaned, her fingers grasping the longer strands at the front of Puck's mohawk, her fingers tightening involuntarily. "Oh God," she sighed, "more, I need more," she moaned, her hips lifting into him, mashing into his mouth, feeling his teeth graze her, heightening the sensation for her.

"How much more?" Puck managed to say, his lips vibrating against her, his fingers still stroking inside her. "What do you want? Tell me, say it, tell me what you want," he said, his voice a husky, sexy growl.

Quinn lifted the eye mask, her sultry gaze sought Puck's bright eyes. "Fuck me," she demanded, her voice low, barely audible.

Puck smiled against her, his tongue flicked her clit again then he sucked it into his mouth, dragged his teeth over it then soothed it with his tongue. Puck stood up, Quinn's legs rested against him, his eyes locked with Quinn's as he slowly unbuttoned his jeans, the buttons popped one by one. Quinn shivered with excitement as she heard each hushed pop. He held Quinn's gaze as he delved inside his boxers to grasp his thick, swollen flesh. Puck slid his hand back and forth a few times, his thumb passing over the tip, spreading his own moisture. "Ready for this?" he asked, a sly smirk touching his lips.

Quinn nodded, yes she was ready, she'd been ready for a whole year. "Yes," she sighed. "Please…please," she groaned, her eye lids drifting closed as she felt just the tip of him breach her needy, greedy flesh.

Puck moaned and felt a shiver creep through his entire body as he pushed slowly home, God this felt so good, so right. He pushed forward till his pelvis met the back of her thighs, his balls met her ass. Slowly he drew back, pulled all the way out, he grasped his dick and tapped it against her clit, making her jump a little with the unexpected sensation. "Like that?" he asked, Quinn nodded, breathless. "Tell me, what do you want?" he asked again.

"You, inside me, now," Quinn replied as she licked her dry lips, anticipating more. Puck obliged, his frenetic pace suited them both, the table creaked, groaned and protested at the strength of his thrusts, Quinn's breath almost stopped as her body tightened and lifted just a little, she squeezed every muscle in her body, contracted everything trying to hold Puck inside her.

Puck felt Quinn's climax, felt the gush of moisture coat him, felt this passage become even slicker, the slap of his skin against hers getting louder and louder, he thrust deep once more, holding position for a second longer, he groaned, Quinn squealed and suddenly tried to shift. "Condom," she squeaked in panic.

"Vasectomy," Puck groaned, his head back, his eyes squeezed tight shut. "Ahhhhh," he moaned as he let loose inside her, filled her with his useless, seedless semen.

Quinn propped herself up on her elbows as Puck leaned forwards, his lips meeting hers, their bodies still joined together. "I always thought you were joking about that," Quinn said with a relieved smile.

Puck shifted inside her a little, his still hard flesh rocking inside her, touching her most sensitive spot making her shiver again. "I was," he thought to himself, "but she doesn't need to know that yet, we can handle anything, everything, we're cool. I'll tell her the truth later, when I know for sure she loves me again, when I'm sure she won't kill me."


End file.
